


My Partner is Oikawa Tooru

by conquerorquinn



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aliens, Eventual Relationship Goals, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Hanamaki Takahiro & Matsukawa Issei Friendship, High School, Iwaizumi Hajime & Oikawa Tooru Friendship, POV First Person, Reader-Insert, Romance, School Project Partners Scenario, Teen Romance, oikawa tooru - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2018-08-22 22:53:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8304284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/conquerorquinn/pseuds/conquerorquinn
Summary: “This is your second to last Physics project for the year, one of two which count for 40% of your final grade. I will be assigning you to groups of two, starting with [Name]-san and Oikawa-san.”





	1. In the Beginning, there were Aliens.

**Author's Note:**

> I mention Theory of Knowledge as a class in this, which for those of you who did/do not take the International Baccalaureate Program (IB Program), is a class where you learn How you know what you know and is really great if you're good at bull shitting XD. It's similar to Philosophy for a vague comparison. This is a classic reader insert fic. Thank you for checking this out! =D I hope you enjoy =).

“This is your second to last Physics project for the year, one of two which count for 40% of your final grade. I will be assigning you to groups of two, starting with [Name]-san and Oikawa-san.”

Your head jerked up immediately, eyes flashing from Takeda-sensei to the infamous Oikawa Tooru, your soon-to-be-partner for this oh so important project. Sensei continued reading from his list as you quickly shot your gaze back toward your notes, running scenarios in your head as to how this partnership would go.

 **Scenario 1** :

Oikawa is as much of an ass as he makes himself out to be. He’ll saunter over, flirt incessantly, and then ungraciously dump the entire project on you.

 **Scenario 2** :

You barely talk, only bringing the project together the day before you present. He remains cold and distant, but does his 50%.

 **Scenario 3** :

He turns out to _actually_ be a major nerd (you caught him once, during the astrology unit, staring awestruck at pictures of galaxies), and you walk away as unlikely friends.

“For this work,” Takeda-sensei continued, “You will be creating your own habitable planet. We have been covering the make-up of various atmospheres, planet types, and moon formations, and I know that in Biology you have been studying life-forms. You can populate your planet with whatever you choose, as long as it scientifically checks out. A major portion of this project rests on your creativity as well, because this grade will count for your Physics, Biology, and Theory of Knowledge classes. Rubrics are online, and the due date is 2 months from today. Good luck! You can spend the remainder of class discussing plans with your partners. And remember- wonder rests within each of you, so do not be afraid to let your spirits soar and your creativity burst forth from the depths of your hearts!” Sensei finished with a flourish, reminding the class once again why you found him so dear.

“Yoo-hoo! Hello, [Name]-chan.”

You turned your head toward the enthusiastic greeting, biting your lip nervously as _the_ Oikawa Tooru took the vacant seat next to you. The only time you had ever interacted before was the occasional head nod as you walked past each other- just an acknowledgement of existence, nothing that warranted a nickname (or so you figured).

“Hey, Oikawa-san,” you responded, sparing him a glance before quickly turning back to your notes, hand jumping as your pen _tap-tap-tapped_ against your papers.

“You can drop the -san, [Name]-chan, it sounds like we’re going to be working together a lot,” he quipped as he slid his gaze across your fidgeting fingers. “Before we start this though, I need to ask you an important question.”

Your eyes locked as Oikawa’s voice dipped into a more serious tone, his deep chocolate irises meeting yours with harsh intensity.

“Do you-” he breathed, forcing you to inch closer, “-believe in aliens?”

Your breath hitched as you studied Oikawa’s face. His eyes were set in dead certainty, completely disregarding the absurdity of what he had just asked.

A smile cracked across your mouth as you contemplated your answer. Oikawa’s gaze flicked downward, catching onto the quirk of lips as his eyes hardened, infinitesimally narrowing with an expectation of dismissal.

A chuckle froze in your throat as you realized the importance of this deceivingly simple question. You sobered immediately, and whispered back, “How could there not be?”

Tooru’s eyes widened like you'd only seen once before, when he had been gazing at the galaxies, his face barely illuminated in the dark of the classroom as the projected images skated across his features. His eyes twinkled like the stars had, as a grin that you'd never seen before lightened his face. And then he started god for fucking _giggling_. Your chest tightened as you stared at Aoba Johsai’s star volleyball player, who had the gall to look _cute_ after asking a ridiculous question that was starting to make your head spin.

 _Why the fascination with aliens? I think I answered right, I mean of course there are aliens, there are waaaay too many other planets and galaxies out there for there_ not _to be._

“That’s exactly what I say!” Oikawa chirped, expression gleeful as he took in the surprise on your face.

“I just said that out loud," you gaped.

“Yes you did! But that’s totally alright because it makes perfect sense, there _have_ to be aliens out there. It would make less sense if there were none, you know?”

You took a second to regain your bearings, because here was Oikawa fucking Tooru gushing about aliens of all things, but as the initial shock wore off you jumped right into gushing with him- “It would actually be SUPER creepy if we were the only sentient beings in the universe, and really lonely too, not to mention boring-“

“-Exactly! I mean, what if we never come into contact with other intelligent species. Think of all the technology and ideas we would be missing out on-“ Oikawa squealed.

“WOAH! Can you imagine alien architecture? But first- are we talking about aliens that are more advanced than us, or that are further behind technology-wise?” you wonder aloud, looking toward the ceiling for answers.

“Hmm, that would depend wouldn’t it. Because if they were behind us then that would mean we established contact first rather than them coming to Earth… let’s go with more advanced for now,” he prompted, resting his elbows on your desk and chin in his hands as your discussion advanced.

“Okay,” you continued, gathering your thoughts and locking eyes with Oikawa once again, “If they are more advanced, I would bet on anti-gravity buildings. So instead of just having structures’ foundations in the ground, there would be varying planes and floating bases for them to go on! Aka, no limits due to a shortage of ground space!” Your hands flourished, gesticulating the structures you were seeing, painting limitless pictures in the air.

“That. Would. Be. Incredible.” Oikawa gasped, eyes glazing over as he pictured cities sprouting in the sky.

Your expression turned grave as a tragic issue glared behind your eyes. “But-“ Oikawa glanced at you nervously, “What about sunlight reaching the bottom layer, the ground? That could really separate society if the rich were above where the sun reached while the poor were left below,” you grimaced, picturing the bleak future anti-gravity foundations could bring.

“It wouldn’t _have_ to be like that, though,” Oikawa countered, determination seeping into his voice. “We could have artificial suns on the base of the foundations, or reflections, or have the buildings and base made so the sunlight could _still go through them_.”

“HOLY CRAP! That would be amazing!” you gushed, “And we could-“ you were cut off abruptly by the bell signalling the end of the period. You blushed profusely, seeing as you had just _totally geeked out with Oikawa Tooru_ , the guy who had a fan club and who was heart-stoppingly attractive (which you knew well before you became partners). You peeked past your redness to see Oikawa in a pretty similar state. He was fiddling with the hem of his sweater, rolling the fabric between his fingers while your conversation ricocheted in his mind.

“That’s all for today!” Takeda-sensei announced. “I hope everyone has an idea of what they want to do for this project- you won’t receive any additional homework as long as you finish our class time tasks until this is complete, so good luck and enjoy the rest of your day!” he smiled, waving politely as you filed out of the class, you and Oikawa still in somewhat of a daze.

You started to stumble toward Math when Tooru grabbed ahold of your wrist.

“Hold on, [Name]-chan!” he gasped, “When can we meet to work on the project?”

“Well,” you began, mentally going over your schedule for the week (while calming your furiously beating heart), “I have [school activity] every day after school and on Saturday, so during the week I’m done by about 7 with dinner and everything, and on Saturday I’m finished up by about 12.”

Oikawa stopped for a second, processing the information and looking amazed while he did so. “That’s exactly when I finish with volleyball- and dinner- for the week,” he stuttered, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “Aside from Mondays, the volleyball club always has those off.” he added.

“So do you want to meet up after school today?” you asked, other students flowing past you and Oikawa like a stream around stones.

“That’s perfect,” Tooru breathed, a smile hinting at the edge of his lips. “See you then, [Name]-chan!”

You watched as Oikawa turned and joined the flow of other students, his chocolate curls fwoomphing delicately as he bobbed his way through the crowd.

 _I’m meeting with Oikawa Tooru after school. I better hope his fangirls don’t find out_ , you chuckled, slipping into step with your classmates, continuing forward to face the rest of the day.


	2. A Whole New World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Oh my god-" you choked, "- we're wearing the same thing!" you laughed. Oikawa's eyes quickly glanced over your clothing, then raked over his own. It was true! You were wearing the same Aoba Johsai sweatshirt, courtesy of the school shop, and grey sweats.
> 
> "This is a little embarrassing..." you trailed off, gauging Oikawa's reaction.
> 
> "This just shows how perfect it is that we're partners." Tooru confirmed, "Let's go get this started."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for posting this so long after the first chapter! I actually wrote a chapter set waaay in the future before I finished this one, but I am excited to keep the story going!

You stood outside the gymnasium, fidgeting self-consciously while waiting for Oikawa to arrive. You realized during Math that you had agreed to meet after school... but had no clue where or when, not to mention the fact that you had no way to contact him other than talking face-to-face. He came around the corner, talking animatedly to Iwaizumi. A small smile wormed its way onto your face- with Iwaizumi, Oikawa was uninhibited, totally himself. You hadn't noticed the difference until after that day you caught him staring at the galaxies. There was a subtle shift in the way his face moved, in his gesticulations, the light in his eyes. Around the school he feigned perfection, was guarded. Tooru noticed you at the gym doors, eyes dimming slightly, but not so much as they would have before.

"Ah, [Name]-chan! What do you need?" he asked genially.

"I forgot we don't have each other's numbers, Oikawa-san," you smiled sheepishly.

"Oh! That's right! We're not doing a very good job being partners. Iwa-chan," he gestured toward you, "this is [Name]-chan, fellow alien enthusiast," he clapped, glee spilling from his lips.

"I know [Name]-chan Bakakawa. We're in the same Math and English class," Iwaizumi stated.

"Pre-Calc will be the death of me," you groaned, laughing with Iwaizumi.

Oikawa looked quickly between the two of you, disbelief briefly clouding his features as he took in _his_ best friend chuckling amicably with his _new_ lab partner. Sometimes he forgot that Iwa-chan _did_ in fact have friends outside of volleyball. He usually didn't bother, so he assumed Iwaizumi didn't either. This shock didn't fade completely as you swapped phones with Oikawa, exchanging numbers. Oikawa couldn't help scrolling quickly through your contacts, finding that not _only_ did you already have Iwa-chan punched in, but _Hanamaki and Matsukawa_ as well! He stared at you, dumbfounded as you continued to chat with Iwaizumi.

"Thanks Oikawa!" you chirped. "I'll text you later."

"Sure thing, [Name]-chan," he mumbled, thoughts still distracted by his discovery.

"Bye, [Name]," Iwaizumi waved.

"See you Iwa-chan!" you winked, chuckling as Tooru was f l o o r e d by the fact that his nickname was so blasphemously stolen.

"[Name]-chan!" he shrieked, "I call copyright infringement!"

"See you, Oikawa-san," you smiled, walking away with a little bit more swing to your step.

\-------------

**6:30 p.m. Oikawa**

[Name]-chaaaaan. Practice is over, do you want to meet to discuss our project??

**6:32 p.m. [Name]**

Sure~ The library's still open if you want to meet there?

**6:33 p.m. Oikawa**

Sounds good. Meet you there at 7:30?

**6:36 p.m. [Name]**

Perfect, see you soon.

Dinner passed by quickly as the clock counted down to your meeting.  _Now, what to wear?_  you asked yourself. After flitting through a variety of clothes whose descriptors switched between _I'm-trying-way-too-hard_ , and _I-could-live-in-a-dumpster_ , you settle with grey sweatpants and an Aoba Johsai sweatshirt, choosing comfort over anything else. After all, you were going to the library.

You steal a glance at the clock, and- _HOLY HELL IT'S 7:25 ALREADY_ , you internally scream. The library is a solid 20 minute walk from your house, so you get your ass in gear and _run_ , making it in an astonishing 12 minutes. You pause at the library's doors, trying to catch your breath so it didn't sound like you had forgotten how to breath. You were quite fit, so running wasn't too bad, but adrenaline had pushed you to nearly sprint the first half of the journey (which your thighs were _not_ appreciating).

Behind you quick footsteps _thud, thud, thudded_ against the concrete before coming to a sudden halt. Someone took in a deep breath as they walked up the library steps.

"[Name]-chan?" Oikawa laughed breezily.

"Hey Oikawa," you responded, not quite managing to hide your breathlessness.

"Did you run too? I thought I was going to be late, but it looks like you're just as bad as me~," he teased.

You turn toward him, a snarky retort on the tip of your tongue when his outfit came into view. "Oh my god-" you choked, "- we're wearing the same thing!" you laughed. Oikawa's eyes quickly glanced over your clothing, then raked over his own. It was true! You were wearing the same Aoba Johsai sweatshirt, courtesy of the school shop, and grey sweats.

"This is a little embarrassing..." you trailed off, gauging Oikawa's reaction.

"This just shows how perfect it is that we're partners," Tooru confirmed, "Let's go get this started."

He pushed open the library door, holding it until you had a hand on it, before making his way toward a table in the center of the building. Tall bookshelves towered above your head as you maneuvered between the stacks, partially mesmerized by the abundance of knowledge. Your fingers grazed along the seemingly endless tomes, their titles gleaming gold and shiny black, deep blue and striking yellow. An open area rested happily at the core of the spirals of bookcases. This library was your favorite because of its elaborate set-up. From the second floor, this centerpiece looked like a dashed spiral with tables set up in the smallest circle. About five sat comfortably in this space with you and Oikawa sitting in the very center one.

"This is my favorite spot," Oikawa muttered, spreading out his books haphazardly. You followed suit, opening up your Physics book to the astrology unit.

"So what kind of a planet do you want to create?" you asked.

Oikawa stared at his notes before he looked up again, "To be totally honest, I have no idea. Where the heck do we start with this? Takeda-sensei left it really open."

You glared at the table, trying to force a comprehensible idea from its dark, scratched surface. "Well- we could start by populating it," you started. Oikawa smirked immediately- you had lit a lightbulb in his brain.

"~Okay~, so this is what we're going to do," he began, painting pictures of a troubled planet filled with warring tribes. The air was acrid and the inhabitants battle-tested. Boiling sulfurous pools dotted the bleak landscape, filled with vile creatures that fought with the more sentient beings for planetary dominance. Trees of volcanic rock reached into the air, atop which the planet's intelligent creatures took refuge, for only up high could they avoid the near certain death which characterized meetings with the pool-dwellers. Bridges woven from the reedy, stiff grass which grew below stretched between the pillars of rock, connecting tribes and serving as a modem of communication. All the living beings on this remote rock required little oxygen, and were relatively small because of it. It was a planet which lived by the rule _'Kill or be killed, eat or be eaten'_. Pitiful herbivores existed in perpetual fear, breeding at a rapid rate in an attempt to maintain their populations. From space, this ruthless environment was an ancient green swirled with dirty white. Small black dots marred its surface, looking like hideous voids intent on sucking you into their infinite depths.

Oikawa's dark vision danced behind your eyes, driving the gears in your brain forward as you contributed a lighter side to the seemingly helpless planet. On either pole of the dreary celestial idea, bright mountains arose from the quagmire. Their crystalline peaks reached toward the distant sun, projecting pastel rainbows into the once bleak sky. Religion sprouted from these lights, providing hope to the pillar-people and scaring the pool-dwellers into the depths of their homes. As eons passed, the more daring of the tribes sent holy warriors to ascend the mountains of their saviors, but they were unaware that something already lay at rest within the giants' scintillating caves. Here there be dragons.

"WOAH woah woah!" Oikawa interrupted, "DRAGONS?!" Up until that point he had been listening with rapt attention, staring into your eyes as your planet's history unfolded. You painstakingly torn your attention away from your story, opting instead to glare at the unwanted disruption.

"What's the problem?" you snapped.

"You can't go outdoing me by adding in dragons," Oikawa pouted.

"Are. You. Joking," you seethed. "You interrupted me because you were jealous?"

Oikawa swiftly shot his eyes toward the floor, bottom lip jutting out ever so slightly, his brows squeezing together in petulance. "Yes," he mumbled. You stared at the boy-child pitilessly... jealous over thinking of dragons? It seemed ridiculous. But, in a rare moment of unadulterated kindness, and a true wish to keep this partnership amicable, you quietly asked, "How would you describe the dragons, Oikawa-san?"

His eyes lit up immediately, a small smile playing across his face as his mind began to turn. "I think-- I think they would be the lights themselves. The pillar-people think that light reflects off of the mountains, but the lights they see are actually thousands and thousands of iridescent dragons. They cling to the mountainsides, making it look like the mountains themselves are made of crystal. The dragons themselves are smaller creatures-the size of cats maybe? But that's because of the lack of oxygen. There's just so many of them that they fill the sky. And, when they sleep, they go fully white, making the mountains they hold appear to be the only clean thing on the entire planet," he smiled, proud.

You returned the expression, delighting in his imagination. The beauty of the small dragons raced around your own, while the deception of the pillar-people tore tiny shreds in your heart. The lights they worshipped weren't lights at all, and this thought turned in your head as the library's lights started to shut off. "Oh dear!" you exclaimed, rushing to check the time on your phone. It's screen happily displayed- oh my god- **10:00**. "Holy crap!" you screeched, rushing to pour your scattered books into your backpack.

Oikawa was doing the same, all the while internally scolding himself for staying for so long. He had volleyball matches to watch, and even though he didn't care about losing the extra sleep because of it, Iwa-chan sure as hell would notice the dark dark circles under his eyes that would result from it. Stupid [Name]-chan.

You both sprinted out of the closing library, yelling thanks to the old lady who was locking up. You paused at the sidewalk, taking a moment to catch your breath before you undoubtably sprinted home.

"Did you write any of that down?" you wheezed, mind still spinning with the pictures you had both created.

"No, I thought you were doing that!" Oikawa squealed.

"Did you see me pick up a pen?!" you screeched indignantly.

"Oh my god, okay, [Name]-chan, both of us will write down everything we can remember okay? And then we'll meet up again later this week okay? Do you understand," Oikawa deadpanned.

"Yes I do, thanks very much," you replied flatly.

Oikawa turned and started to walk away before pausing, remembering Iwaizumi's pestering to 'Not have such a shitty personality' and 'Actually be goddam nice to people outside of volleyball.' He stopped and turned toward you. "Hey, [Name]-chan!" he called back, "Good job today," he said with a dazzling smile, offering a small wave as he turned and ran toward home.

You stood, frozen to the spot, all annoyance banished from your being. You watched his form disappear into the dark, as your heart beat just a little bit faster.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please leave comments and kudos- they are greatly appreciated. I hope you had as much fun reading this as I did writing it! 
> 
> Much love, 
> 
> conquerorquinn


	3. The Great Grump Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Oikawa are tired after staying so late at the library, which means your first class- Physics- is a struggle. Math is directly after, so you, Hanamaki, and Matsukawa indulge in bothering a grumpy Iwaizumi.

 

The next day you sat dozing, waiting for Physics class to start. Takeda-sensei was frantically scribbling today's lecture on the board. Students filed in slowly, not quite ready for the day to begin. Physics was first on the schedule today, and it seemed like waking up had been difficult for everyone. Sensei had run into class five minutes before it was set to start, his hair unkempt and his shirt only partially tucked in. He had stuttered a semi-shouted apology upon entrance before rushing to put his lesson plan on the board. Visions of the world you and Oikawa had created the day before danced behind your drooping eyelids. You had tried to write down as much as you could remember when you arrived home, but your bed had been a welcome alternative to staying awake. You gave yourself a pinch to reanimate. The sharp pain forced your eyes open, prompting you to resume last night's half-finished notes.

Oikawa slumped into the seat next to you, burying his head into his arms before snoring softly. He only received 30 seconds of bliss. You poked Oikawa's arm with your pen to rouse the sleeping captain. Takeda-sensei worked hard to ensure his students learned everything they needed to succeed at not only finals, but to understand and appreciate the subject at hand. He taught with energetic, eloquent passion- dedication which shouldn't be slept through. Oikawa struggled to raise his head. He had foolishly stayed up obsessing over the University of Tsukuba's new 'volleybot,' a six-handed volleyball playing robot developed to train Japan's national team. Once class ended, he told you as much.

"Wait a minute," you started, slowly packing your bag, "there's a  _six handed_ robot that's helping the national team train?"

"Yes [Name]-chan. It's the most beautiful robot that has ever been created," Oikawa swooned.

"And I'm guessing you watched videos on that _instead_ of writing down our notes, huh?" you teased, swinging your backpack over your shoulder.

"You don't understand, this is _revolutionary_ ," he continued as you walked into the hallway, stopping just outside the door, "And I'll be able to analyze what strategies their coach programs into the robot to come up with more blocking techniques for our practices." Oikawa's hands moved into mock-blocking positions in front of his chest as he explained the machine to you: his slender fingers flexed and stretched seemingly of their own accord.

"Oh! I didn't even think about that!" you exclaimed as your hands clumsily tried to mimick the smooth motions of Oikawa's, eyes squinting in concentration as you imagined what methods the robot could demonstrate.

"Exactly," he laughed, watching gleefully as your mind worked to wrap around the concept of blocking. "I have to rush to English, so I'll see you later [Name]-chan," Oikawa smiled.

"See you," you waved with a matching grin, turning quickly to walk to your next class.

\----------

"Good morning [Name]," Iwaizumi greeted warmly, nodding his head toward the empty seat beside him.

"Morning Iwa-chan," you winked as you slid into your seat. The infamous nickname elicited an annoyed growl from Iwaizumi's throat.

"Spending time with Shittykawa has _not_ been good for you," he grumbled, brows furrowing and mouth turning downward in annoyance.

"Oh, sweet [Name]-san, I almost thought you had cracked past our Iwaizumi's morning grumpiness," Hanamaki sing-songed as he claimed the desk in front of his bothered teammate.

You put on your best British accent as you responded, "Sir Hanamaki, how could I, a simple peasant, possibly defeat the tough as nails Grump Monster that has attached itself to our dear Iwaizumi's face?"

"OH NO!" Hanamaki shrieked, bending over backwards in his chair to gape at Iwaizumi from an upside-down perspective. "The monster seems to have gotten stronger!" Iwaizumi's frown deepened in the face of Takahiro's antics, which only spurred him on further. "And now it's spreading to his hands!"

You watched as- indeed- the 'Grump Monster' affected Iwazumi's hands as they slowly tightened into fists.

"Escape Hanamaki, before it attacks!" you yelled, diving to clasp onto Iwaizumi's fists before they could whack the still upside-down Takahiro. Hanamaki's compsure cracked as he guffawed, flipping himself upright and burying his face into his arms to muffle his laughter. You grinned cheekily at Iwaizumi as you carefully released his hands, acting as if they were a bomb about to explode. He shot you a final stone-cold glare before allowing a small grin.

"You two are ridiculous," he smiled, shaking his head.

"You loooove us," Hanamaki retorted.

"What'd I miss?" the (unsurprisingly) late Matsukawa asked. He settled languidly into the empty seat beside Hanamaki and in front of you.

Iwaizumi's ever-present frown returned. "Just these two being idiots," he responded flatly.

"The Great Grump Monster!" Matsukawa exclaimed as he flinched away from Iwaizumi in mock horror.

"DO YOU THREE PLAN THESE THINGS?!" Iwaizumi roared. His face flushed bright red with frustration as you, Hanamaki, and Matsukawa simultaneously burst into fits of uncontrollable laughter. Hanamaki didn't bother to stifle the choking guffaws erupting from his throat, which only made you and Matsukawa laugh harder. It is a fact universally known that a Hanamaki Takahiro in possesion of a good reason for glee will always respond with his horrendous dying animal-esque laughter. The danger of this aforementioned horrible sound is that it provokes further outbursts from those around him (that, or genuine concern from those who have never heard it).

"Hanamaki! Matsukawa! [Name]!" your math teacher said pointedly, "Stop harrassing Iwaizumi- this is your only warning for today. I'm not in the mood to entertain your antics."

Iwaizumi breathed a quiet sigh of relief. He _might_  have a chance at making it through math without further distractions. Meanwhile, you and your partners in crime were struggling to mask your giggling. Poor Hanamaki was still gasping for air- his terrible laughter needed a lot of oxygen to maintain itself, so a common after-effect was what you and Matsukawa were now desperately trying to ignore, lest you be launched into another laughing fit.

Luckily for Iwaizumi, the remainder of math class passed without further shenanigans. The four of you left class together, parting ways as you and the troublesome duo sniggered and whispered 'Great Grump Monster' conspiratorily between giggles. Iwaizumi huffed and let the Grump take over his arms to capture Matsukawa and Hanamaki in matching headlocks. They sported identical grins as they were dragged away, both waving bye to you behind their backs as they high-fived behind Iwaizumi's. You chuckled happily to yourself as you watched the awkward three-boy form disappear down the hall, and pivoted to continue on your way.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was super fun writing the interactions between Hanamaki, Matsukawa, and Iwaizumi. I thought it would be nice to have an established friendship between these three even though the relationship with Oikawa is just getting started. Thank you for reading!


	4. Meat Bun Madness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Oh my god!" Matusukawa shrieked, interrupting your meat bun fantasy, "[Name]-san is in love with her meat bun!" Takahiro turned toward Mattsun, looking positively scandalized.

You stretched your arms above your head as the school day finally came to a close. Your club activity had been cancelled today, so you had the afternoon free. You walked out of class in a relaxed daze, letting yourself be taken by the current of students eager to head home. As you passed Aoba Johsai's gates, your phone _pinged_  with a text message.

 **hanamaki-taka-taki 3:18**  

yoyoyoyoyo [Name], u free later???

**[Name] 3:19**

 yep, what's up?

 **hanamaki-taka-taki** **3:19**

 come wit us 4 meatbuns after practice

 **[Name] 3:20**  

YUM!!! text me when youre done

**hanamaki-taka-taki 3:20**

c u! :D

You tucked your phone back into your bag as you continued home, a small smile worming its way onto your face.

\------

*A few minutes earlier*

 

"Hey Matsun," Hanamaki started as he and his pseudo-brother made their way to the gym, "How about we invite [Name] to come with us for meat buns after practice?"

"You don't mean-" Matsukawa gasped dramatically, "-invite someone from _outside_ of volleyball? What will our grand king think?!"

Hanamaki stifled a guffaw as he continued, "Well she's partners with him in Physics right? This is the highest chance of success we're ever going to have to bring an _outsider_  in," he said, narrowing his eyes on the word 'outsider.'

"Maaaybe," Matsukawa shrugged, "but I don't feel like dealing with Oikawa if he throws a hissy fit. You know how he gets with- _outsiders_ ," he finished with a shiver. Hanamaki furrowed his brow as he contemplated this very serious problem.

"Well, like I said before, if we were going to try this with anyone, [Name] is the best choice. It's _[Name]_ ," Takahiro stressed. "And, my sweet Matsun, just think of the _jokes_ , picture the endless possibilities we'll have to incite the wrath of _not only_  the Great Grump Monster, but the Grand King too- if he doesn't throw a hissy fit first."

"Hmmm..." Matsukawa replied quite seriously, "I suppose."

Hanamaki leapt into the air in brief celebration. He pulled out his phone and texted you, barely able to stop his excited fingers as he began his text with a customary 'yo.'

"But-" Matsukawa continued, after Hanamaki had sent the text, "-you have to deal with Oikawa if he freaks out."

"Matsun!" Hanamaki exclaimed, "How," he clutched onto his heart, "could you?!" he wailed.

"Hey," Matsukawa raised his hands in mock surrender, "you came up with the idea, you deal with the consequences."

"But you want [Name] to come just as much as I do," Hanamaki whined.

"We both know Iwaizumi will end up dealing with him anyways."

"True. We will use the Grump Monster to our advantage."

"Use his evil powers for good!"

"Have him save us from the spoiled Grand King!"

"GO FORTH GREAT GRUMP MONSTER!" they both shouted as they burst into the gym, fingers pointed directly at the undeserving Iwaizumi.

"What," Iwaizumi's eyebrow ticked. "The," he continued, fists tightening. "HELL!" poor Iwaizumi bellowed, dropping his gym bag to chase after the offending parties. Hanamaki and Matsukawa giggled manically as they sprinted around the gym, saved only by the 'grace' of their coach telling them to 'Stop running around like idiots and get ready for practice.' Iwaizumi begrudgingly left them unharmed (for now) before going to retrieve his abandoned bag.

 

\-----

 

 **hanamaki-taka-taki 5:32**  

we r finishing now =D

 **[Name] 5:35**  

coolio! how was practice?

**hanamaki-taka-taki 5:36**

the grump tried to KILL me + matsun

**[Name] 5:37**

not surprised XD

**hanamaki-taka-taki 5:37**

where is ur loyalty?!

**[Name] 5:37**

the power of the grump... was too... strong *dies*

 **hanamaki-taka-taki 5:38**  

DONT DIE [NAME] *sends health points*

**[Name] 5:38**

*revives* dying was hard, need meat buns!

 **hanamaki-taka-taki 5:39**  

hurry then, we r leaving skool now =D

You threw on a simple graphic T-shirt, athletic shorts, and a pair of comfy sneakers to go meet the guys in. Your tummy rumbled in anticipation, ready for meat buns and the inevitable jokes that would ensue with Hanamaki and Matsukawa.

 

\--------

 

"Hey guys!" you waved exuberantly to Matsukawa and Hanamaki.

"Yo [Name]!" they responded in sync.

"We got you your meatbun already," Makki smiled, tossing the aforementioned delicacy into your impatient hands. You opened the paper wrapping greedily as steam wafted into your face. It teased your lips with promises of tantalizing bites, dreams of the sensation of that _first bite_ , all the wonders that meat buns-

"Oh my god!" Matusukawa shrieked, interrupting your meat bun fantasy, "[Name]-san is in love with her meat bun!" Takahiro turned toward Mattsun, looking positively scandalized.

"How could you display such _ardor_  in front of the children [Name]?!"

"The gall she has!" Matsukawa wept.

"Meat buns all over Japan are fleeing country!" Hanamaki announced in his best reporter voice.

"This just in," Matsukawa continued, "We are receiving reports from our in-the-field reporter Hanamaki Takahiro that a new danger has appeared in _this very prefecture_. Hanamaki, can you please give us the details?!"

"Well Matsukawa, it seems that the meat bun community has called a state of emergency. A new threat has arisen. Remember this name now- [Name]- I repeat- [NAME]. This meat bun menace has adopted a cruel technique to lure in the unsuspecting delicacies before they are..." Hanamaki paused to choke down a sob, "EATEN!" he wailed, clutching his heart dramatically.

"However could this menace be allowed to roam the streets of Japan!" Matsukawa cried, arms cradling his body as he shook back and forth.

"SHUT UP!" you laugh-screeched, holding your meat bun to your chest in offence.

"SHE'SCOMINGTOATTACK!" Hanamaki yelled as he dove behind Matsukawa for cover.

"Don't make me face her wrath!" Matsun shrieked indignantly, spinning to make Hanamaki closer to you than he was. You scrunched your eyebrows together and forced your mouth into a hard line- a perfect impression of Iwaizumi's classic grimace.

Maki and Matsun both froze in an instant. Neither of them dared to breathe. "It's..." they whispered together, "THE GREAT MEAT BUN MONSTER!!!" they cackled, pivoting to sprint down the street.

"You assholes!" you yelled after them, taking care to safely wrap up your meat bun before gearing up to run after them. As you went to take your first step after the troublesome duo, a newly-familiar voice stopped you.

"[Name]-chan?" Oikawa more stated than asked, coldly.

"Ah, Oikawa! What's up?" you asked genially, quickly ridding yourself of the compressed rage that had been boiling moments before.

"What are you doing here."

"Eating meat buns with Maki and Matsun," you responded easily.

"With Maki and Matsun." Oikawa repeated. His eyes stared down at you, blank. You usually didn't notice the height different between you two, but suddenly Oikawa was towering over you, and the air around him darkened. His blank stare turned to daggers.

"Yes..." you admitted, confused when guilt started shooting through you like ice shards. _What is happening?_  you thought to yourself as the sensation started to make your body go cold.

Oikawa's mouth, the one that was usually occupied by the most dazzling of smiles, transformed into something ugly. It twisted poisonously as it curled upward into a sick, sadistic smirk. You instinctively took a step back.

"Oh, [Name]-chan, are you so lonely that you thought you could hang out with _my_ friends? All because we're silly partners in Physics?" Oikawa sneered.

"Oikawa-" you started, shocked by the venom in his voice.

"No, no, [Name]-chan," he spat, "let's go over some ground rules, okay? Obviously you misunderstood our partnership. It doesn't mean that we're friends, it most certainly doesn't mean we should ever see each other outside of class, except for working, and it _most importantly_  does not mean you can sneak behind my back to steal my friends," Oikawa finished, shooting daggers with his eyes. "And another thing, [Name]-chan, I understand that you _don't have_ friends, but that doesn't mean you can go trying to get close to mine. They. Are. Off. Limits." he enunciated cruelly.

Hot hot tears pricked the sides of your eyes. A myriad of warring thoughts raced around your head in the face of Oikawa's attack. The loudest one was a resounding _WHAT THE FUCK?!_ , but it was silenced by a feeling of utter confusion and betrayal which left you rooted to the spot. Your mouth gaped open dumbly, unable to form a defense. Your throat tightened as Oikawa's words ricocheted between your ears. _How could he say such terrible things?_   your mind cried. _You love Hanamaki and Matsukawa!_  

"Don't say things like that," you began, the slightest tremble in your voice.

Anger started to course through your veins, slowly. The injustice of what Oikawa just said stoked the fire that was building within you, rage was forming hot hot hot but before you could defend yourself Hanamaki and Matsukawa appeared behind you. Oikawa's face switched from menacing to pleasant in a second.

"Yoooo, how goes it?" Matsun waved toward Oikawa.

"I just ran into [Name]-chan here, she said she was just leaving," Oikawa smiled, too sweetly. Your eyebrow twitched.

"Whaaat, but [Name], you just got here!" Hanamaki whined. "We haven't even had the chance to make fun of Iwaizumi!" At the mention of Iwaizumi, Oikawa's eyes narrowed. 

"We can't do it without you," Matsukawa confirmed. "...Or at least, not as well," he admitted sheepishly.

"It's true," Hanamaki continued without missing a beat, "We are capable of inciting Iwa's wrath without you, but much less efficiently."

You took a deep breath in as you tried to calm the anger that was boiling like lava just beneath your skin.

"[Name]-san?" Maki questioned, poking you in the shoulder. You never failed to join into their banter,  _especially_ not when it included Iwaizumi: something was wrong. He glanced for a second at Matsukawa, who gave an imperceptible nod in agreement.

"[Name]-san?" Matsun asked, repeating Hanamaki's gesture.

"I thought you were just _leaving_ , [Name]-chan," Oikawa butted in, barely reining back the impatience in his voice.

"I was just leaving, thank you Oikawa. And when I do, you can explain to Matsukawa and Hanamaki here that you realized why you don't have any friends outside of volleyball, and why you will _never_ have any." You concluded with a glare that would make even the Great Grump Monster cower in fear, but Oikawa faced that every day, so he stood, obstinate, in the face of your wrath.

Maki and Mattsun on the other hand were standing slack jawed. You were undoubtedly one of the sweetest, most down-to-earth, difficult to _truly_  annoy, let alone _anger_ , people they had ever met. What the hell did Oikawa do?!

"Thank you for the meat bun!" you smiled at the duo, giving each of them a hug in turn. A long hug. Each. Directly in front of Oikawa. As you turned to face your partner once again, frustration cracked your smile in half. "I really thought we had something going, Oikawa. It's too bad you decided to ruin that. Don't talk to me again until you decide to apologize." You didn't wait to hear his response before walking away, leaving behind your precious duo with a suddenly exposed Oikawa. As you finally disappeared around a corner, Hanamaki turned to Oikawa and asked, "Now what the fuck was that?"

A new voice boomed from behind Oikawa. "The fuck  _was_ that, Shittykawa?" 

Oikawa froze immediately. He pivoted slowly, arms raising in surrender, as he scrambled to find a way to explain his actions to the Great Grump Monster himself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GAHHH!!! I knew I wanted to write Oikawa freaking out a little bit, but he got away from me and threw a full-on hissy fit. Let's hope Iwaizumi will be able to help his ditz of a best friend out of the grave he's dug himself into XD.


	5. The Grand King Crumbles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The fuck was that, Shittykawa?" Iwaizumi growled from behind Tooru.
> 
> "[Name]-chan started it," Oikawa spat.
> 
> "We both know you're going to have to give a better reason than that."

Oikawa glared at your back as you walked away. Disgust and rage slithered through his veins like snakes. _No one_ was allowed to talk down to him like that, especially not girls he barely knew. _Who the fuck does [Name] even think she is?_   Oikawa could see Hanamaki's mouth press into a thin line as he asked for an explanation, but Tooru refused to temper his venomous thoughts.

_She has no right to even think-_

"The fuck _was_ that, Shittykawa?" Iwaizumi growled from behind him.

And then Tooru went cold.

 _Shit_ , Oikawa thought as he slowly pivoted toward Iwaizumi, _shit shit shit shit shit_. He frantically scrambled through the mess in his mind to think of _any_  plausible reason he could give for his behavior. But did he need one? _I'm Oikawa fucking Tooru_ , he raged, 3 seconds away from facing Iwaizumi. _[Name] is_ nobody _to me, or to any of them. They just think she's close to them, the fucking snake_. At 2 seconds away, Tooru could see the beginnings of Iwa-chan's glare. _I've faced angry Iwa-chan before, that face doesn't mean shit, [Name]-chan is wrong_. In his final free second, Oikawa's petulance considered fading before flaring to life once again, to his demise and Iwaizumi's frustration.

"[Name]-chan started it," Oikawa spat.

"We both know you're going to have to give a better reason than that," Iwaizumi deadpanned, arms crossed stiffly across his chest. Hanamaki and Matsukawa moved to stand behind him. Even in the face of this formidable trio, Oikawa refused to stand down.

"I don't have a better one, because it's true," he scowled.

Iwaizumi had spent the majority of his life trying to understand the inner workings of Tooru's mind, as had Makki and Mattsun once they joined the original pair. They all knew something deeper was bothering Oikawa, but they also knew it would take some serious interrogation to get him to admit it. The asshole could read other's emotions uncannily well, but was hopeless when it came to understanding his own. The trio traded quick glances between themselves before deciding on a course of action.

"Come with us," Mattsun gestured, leading the way down the street, in the opposite direction you had gone.

"The fuck are we going?" Oikawa asked as his feet followed his best friends.

Hanamaki rolled his eyes, "To talk about this you idiot."

"I don't see what there is to talk about," Oikawa grumbled.

"You're gonna tell us why that happened in a minute, Trashykawa. Think about what you want to say," Iwaizumi directed.

They walked in silence until they came upon a park a few blocks away. It was a nice place, quiet, with a swing set and a few benches spread about for parents to sit on while their kids played. Oikawa sat down on one of the swings, letting his toes drag along the ground as he swung slowly back and forth. Hanamaki sat in the other one and stuck his legs straight out in front of him, ready to be pushed by a willing Matsukawa, but dropped them to the floor as he remembered what had brought them here. Iwaizumi stood directly in front of Oikawa, letting him sit in silence before beginning.

"You ready to explain?" Iwaizumi asked, his voice gentler than it had been earlier.

"I still don't get what you guys are so worked up about," Oikawa pouted, eyes glued to the dirt clinging to his shoes. His nose scrunched up for a second, momentarily disgusted, before he seemed to fold in on himself. His three best friends watched painfully as they saw their captain unravel, piece by piece. Oikawa was like this. He hesitated to show his feelings, especially when he was upset, so when he finally did it wasn't all at once. It happened at an agonizing pace. First, his shoulders would start to slump. Then, his head would droop while the rest of his body followed suit as their brave captain curled himself into something small. If he was smaller, then maybe he would hurt less? It didn't usually work.

"Oikawa, what's wrong?" Iwaizumi questioned, placing a hand on Tooru's back as he squatted to see his best friend's broken face. Hanamaki and Matsukawa shuffled closer, forming a protective barrier from any curious eyes that may be passing by. Iwaizumi watched in silence as drops of water started to fall from Oikawa's cheeks. The setter wiped them away quickly, but he knew the charade was up.

"Shit," Oikawa whispered, "shit shit _shit_." A knot formed in his throat as he struggled to choke down a sob, but the tears wouldn't stop coming and he couldn't smother the guilt gnawing its way through his stomach and now his eyes were burning and it was too much- too much to handle right now and he couldn't cry in the middle of a fucking park, but that's what he did. His three best friends moved instinctively closer as sobs wracked through Oikawa's body. "I'm sorry," he choked, "I'm so so sorry."

Iwaizumi rubbed his hand in endless circles, repeating the motion until Oikawa's violent tremors slowly diminished into sniffles. Oikawa let out a quick, bitter laugh. "How pathetic am I?" The three boys around him narrowed their eyes as one. They let the question hang in the air as Oikawa calmed his breathing.

"You ready to tell us what's going on?" Iwaizumi prodded, ever so gently, as he leaned back to sit in front of Oikawa, legs crossed. Hanamaki and Matsukawa moved to do the same, forming a haphazard semi-circle around Tooru.

"I-," he started, nearly choking up again. "Yes."

Hanamaki made sure to speak softly as he asked, "Why were you so mad at [Name]-san?" tilting his head to the side as he did so.

"Well, she- she was so _friendly_ with you two," he began, gesturing to Makki and Mattsun, "and she had all of your numbers in her phone, and-"

"Hold on a second," Iwaizumi interrupted. "How did you know she had our numbers?"

"When I put mine in I scrolled through her contacts," Oikawa admitted, shrugging his shoulders like that _wasn't_ a nosy thing to do.

Iwaizumi chuckled, disbelieving. "You really have a shitty personality don't you?" he smiled, shaking his head at his best friend.

"Hey!" Oikawa squealed indignantly, "You were supposed to be comforting me!"

"Don't change the subject, Captain-sama," Matsukawa drawled.

"Okay..." Tooru mumbled. "Now where was I... [Name]-chan has been getting so _close_ to all of you, and, unlike me, she doesn't have a shitty personality, so I don't see why she had to choose my best friends. She could be friends with anyone. And I don't want to share.... I can't afford to share," he admitted, shrinking slightly. Three figures jumped to their feet in front of him.

"Bakakawa-" Iwaizumi spat.

"-you fucking idiot-" Hanamaki continued.

"-what are you thinking?!" Matsukawa finished, rightly pissed. Oikawa stared stupidly, confused at his friends' actions.

"Wha-" he began, but was quickly cut off by a flurry of furious dialogue which bounced from Iwaizumi to Hanamaki to Matsukawa and back again.

"I can't believe you'd even let yourself think-"

"-that we could be such assholes to drop you as soon as someone new came along-"

"-what kind of best friends would that make us-"

"-crappy fucking ones for sure Shittykawa-"

"-you know we'd do anything for you you idiot-"

"-we're all fucking brothers man."

"We're fucking brothers," Iwaizumi finished, breathing hard as he released the outrage that had consumed him a moment earlier. They were all breathing hard- three from rage, one from a fresh wave of emotion. Oikawa's eyes started to tear up again, but for a different reason. He was loved. He was loved and appreciated and his friends weren't going to leave him. Relief coursed through him and the emotion threatened to spill over. 

"Thank you," he choked as fresh tears ran down his cheeks. "Thank you guys, for- for everything."

"Of course Crappykawa," Matsukawa smiled as he clapped Oikawa on the back, "what are best friends for?"

"You're not gonna get rid of us _that_ easily," Hanamaki teased.

Iwaizumi grinned wide and cocky, "Not by a long shot."

"Hey, your face doesn't look so ugly like that, Iwa-chan," Tooru sniggered, wiping the last of his tears away.

"Don't test my patience Shittykawa-"

"Oh no-" Hanamaki gasped as horror spread across his face.

"It's-" Matsukawa began, gearing up to run.

"THE GREAT GRUMP MONSTER!" Oikawa shrieked, leaping out of the swing to sprint across the park, Makki and Mattsun close behind.

"YOU FUCKING IDIOTS!!!" Iwaizumi roared, running to chase after his three best friends, his three (troublesome!) brothers.

They ran until their lungs felt like collapsing, which after the events of the day wasn't terribly long. Matsukawa was laying across one of the benches, head on Hanamaki's lap while his legs hung off the opposite side. Oikawa and Iwaizumi lay heaving on the grass in front of it, laughing silently at their stupidity.

"You do know you're going to have to apologize to [Name], Oikawa," Iwaizumi sighed.

"Yeah, I know."

"Do you know how you're gonna do that?"

"I'm going to have to figure that out, Iwa-chan."

 


	6. Kill the Cookies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanamaki beamed at you before sobering again. He stared at the ground, hard, for a moment before looking up at you again. "[Name]-san," he began. You stiffened, unused to Hanamaki sounding so serious. "Will you please give Oikawa another chance?"
> 
> "He's going to have to ask me himself, Makki."

Anger was still coursing through your veins like fire when you reached home. You paced in your room for a few moments before throwing yourself onto your bed, screaming into your mattress as your frustration sought release.

"WHY. IS HE. SUCH. A. FUCKING. DIIIIIIICK?!" you yelled into your innocent covers. A few minutes passed with your face squished firmly against your bed. The adrenaline fueling your rage drained away, leaving you deflated. You flipped over and sighed. "I don't get it..."

Your phone had been pinging endlessly for nearly an hour now, the notifications interchangeably from Iwaizumi, Hanamaki, and Matsukawa. But nothing from the Grand Asshole himself. You scrolled through their messages with bored eyes. It wasn't _them_ you needed an explanation from, not like they were telling you anything anyways- they certainly weren't offering any hints as to _why_ Oikawa had been such a dick. They were just telling you, in different words, that they were sorry for how he had behaved, but to please please give him a chance to explain. He was their best friend, and you were very nearly there to the three of them. And you were Oikawa's partner. They didn't want to see you fighting.

The problem is, their incessant texts did the opposite of what they had intended. Rather than calm you down and encourage you to hear Oikawa out, they made the fact that _he hadn't said anything_ _yet_  more glaring, which only added fuel to the fire burning inside you. He accused you of stealing his friends, and now he was using your relationship with them to gain forgiveness? Bull. Shit. The genuine Oikawa you thought you had been seeing more and more of must have been an illusion, you reasoned. How could your partnership have started off with such promise, then turned into _this_ , if Oikawa hadn't been faking his interest in your conversations or in the world you had created together, if the comfort you'd started to feel around him hadn't been fabricated too? _It's just a mess now_ , you thought, _I don't know how I'm going to face him in class... but he can deal with that. I don't have to do anything different... let_ him _fix this stupid mess [Name]!_

Satisfied with your decision/mini pep talk, you hopped off your bed and, humming, went downstairs to bake some cookies.

\--------

The next day you were standing in front of your locker, contemplating whether you'd get all of today's books out _now_  or come back during lunch to switch your morning classes' books for your afternoon classes' when there was a delicate tap on your shoulder. You turned suspiciously, ready to dismiss whoever had interrupted your decision-making process. In front of you, fidgeting, stood a sheepish Hanamaki. He was rubbing the back of his neck and doing his best to avoid direct eye contact with you. Your annoyed expression softened in the face of his nerves. You were mad at Oikawa, but Hanamaki didn't deserve to suffer for his best friend's actions.

"Hey, Hanamaki," you smiled gently.

"H-hey [Name]-san. I-I just wanted to say s-sorry for Oikawa yesterday. He was _not_  cool at all. He was a dick, really."

"The biggest!" you snorted, glaring at the ground as your annoyance returned.

"I'll switch out his hair product with hair removal cream if you'd like," he offered genially as a Cheshire smile spread across his face.

You nearly guffawed at the image of a partially bald Oikawa. Chuckling, you replied, "You don't have to do that." You waved your hand through the air, pushing that terrible image away, "But you do have to try some of the cookies I made last night." You pulled a container filled with chocolate chip cookies out of your bag. Hanamaki looked at the parcel with a mixture of elation and confusion.

"Yes puh- _lease_ ," he said, holding out a hand as you pulled out two of the sweets. "Why'd you make cookies?" he asked.

"I like to bake when I'm mad," you explained.

"But isn't baking a happy thing?"

"There's something disturbingly satisfying about beating the ingredients together, then putting them into a burning oven to get crispy enough for me to destroy with my teeth."

Hanamaki stood in silent contemplation for a moment before observing, "That was the most metal description of baking I've ever heard."

"It's a healthy way to deal with rage," you confirmed, shoving the cookies back into your bag.

"I'll have to try it instead of pacing in my room shrieking to Mattsun via telephone the next time I'm mad."

"He'll probably appreciate it," you laughed. Hanamaki beamed at you before sobering again. He stared at the ground, hard, for a moment before looking up at you again. "[Name]-san," he began. You stiffened, unused to Hanamaki sounding so serious. "Will you please give Oikawa another chance?" He looked pitiful, standing in front of you begging forgiveness for a crime he didn't commit for a friend who wasn't there. You furrowed your brow and stared straight ahead.

"He's going to have to ask me himself, Makki."

Takahiro sighed, "Yeah, I know... I was hoping I could soften you up a bit." He smiled cheekily and rubbed the back of his neck, still nervous.

You stared at him for a second before realization hit, "You know I'm not mad at you or Iwaizumi or Mattsun, right?" Hanamaki's eyes widened, had he been so obvious? You smiled gently as he stuttered a response.

"I-I mean I _hoped_  you weren't, you didn't respond to ANY of us last night so I wasn't exactly sure..." he laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck again. With astonishing speed you grasped Hanamaki's guilty wrist, leaving him momentarily shocked into stillness.

"Stop fidgetting, Taki-Taki. We're okay." You released his hand, letting it flop back to his side. "See you later?" you asked, a small smile on your face.

Hanamaki nodded his head quickly and then saluted, "Absolutely... and thank you, [Name]-san."

"For what?" you asked, pausing. Makki stared at you for a moment before matching the smile you had held a moment earlier.

"The cookies, naturally."

You looked at him skeptically before accepting the answer: Hanamaki didn't usually hide meanings in his words, so you nodded a 'you're welcome' and continued on your way.

\--------

"Look at what I got from [Name]-san!" Hanamaki singsonged, holding a cookie in each hand and waving them sporadically through the air as he approached Matsukawa. Mattsun visibly relaxed once he processed what Makki had said... the cookies had been distracting.

"So she isn't mad at us?" Matsukawa asked carefully, voice raising in pitch on the word 'us.'

"Thankfully, no," Hanamaki sighed. "You want one?" He tossed an easily caught cookie to Mattsun.

"Thanks bro," Matsukawa nodded. He split the cookie in two, shoving one half into his mouth and the other into his pocket. As he chewed the delicacy, his eyes widened into saucers, while his jaw nearly went slack.

"Woah, Mattsun! What happened bro? Is it bad??" Hanamaki asked, panicked.

Matsuakwa swallowed slowly. "What did [Name]-san bake these with?" he questioned, dazed.

"Apart from the rage of a thousand suns I have no idea- _why_?" Makki begged, frustrated he didn't understand.

"She should get mad more... have you not tried the cookies yet?! They're _incredible_. Never have I ever tasted something so delicious. Give me your other one." Matsukawa demanded.

"What? No!" Hanamaki squawked. "You still have another half!"

Mattsun's eyes widened while his hands dove into his pockets, searching for the other half of the piece of heaven he'd stashed. Meanwhile, Hanamaki nibbled on his cookie and suffered a similar reaction. First- abject shock. Then, a taste-bud oriented euphoria. And finally, an insatiable hunger for _more_.

Tooru walked up to the duo in the middle of this fiasco. As Hanamaki and Matsukawa gobbled down their respective cookies, they gave each other a hard look and a nod toward Oikawa.

"Oikawa," Hanamaki started, "we're sorry for this-"

"-but you really can't apologize to [Name]-san yet," Matsukawa finished.

"I'm sorry- _what_?" Oikawa squawked. "Why not?"

"Cookies," they responded simultaneously.

Tooru groaned in frustration. "I don't have time for this right now! I need to figure out how to get [Name]-san to forgive me."

"Buy her baking supplies," Mattsun offered. Oikawa quirked a brow. "Or you could start with apologizing."

"But that-that's so _direct_ ," Oikawa whined, wringing his hands together nervously.

"You were pretty direct yesterday, Shittykawa."

"Iwa-chan!" Tooru shrieked. "You need to stop sneaking up behind me like that." He motioned to slap Iwaizumi on the shoulder but was batted away easily. Iwaizumi offered a gruff nod to Makki and Mattsun in greeting.

Hanamkai returned the nod as he said, "Iwaizumi spoke the truth."

"That he did," Mattsun confirmed.

Oikawa groaned and put his head into his hands. "Is there no other way?"

"That's the only thing that's going to work, captain. She said so herself," Makki said while patting Oikawa reassuringly on the back.

"So I can't avoid talking to her..." Oikawa said gloomily, resigning himself to his fate.

"She'll appreicate it," Iwaizumi offered as he joined Hanamaki's patting.

"If she doesn't hate me forever first," Oikawa grumbled.

"You'll do great... hopefully," Mattsun supplied, completing the trio of patters on Oikawa's back.

"Well," Oikawa started, steeling his resolve as he set off to find you, "here goes nothing."

 

 

 


	7. The Game Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I-w-a-c-h-a-n!” Oikawa enunciated in frustration, “I think I want [Name]-chan to be my girlfriend!”
> 
> Oikawa’s confession was met with silence. “Iwa-chan?” Oikawa whispered, anxious. He heard a deep intake of breath and an even longer exhale. 
> 
> Iwaizumi broke his silence with the obvious, “You do realize you’ve made things way harder for yourself than you needed to, right, Shittykawa? We’re going to have to come up with something good... something really fucking good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so sorry for the long wait! I started college in the beginning of August and finally calmed down enough to write. Thank you for your patience-- I'm going to do my best to get updates back to a more regular pace, hopefully at least once every two weeks. You guys are the best, and as always thank you for reading!

It was Saturday morning and Oikawa had spent most of the day in silence. Volleyball had passed by in an instant, so he was laying in bed staring at his ceiling wracking his brain for a way to apologize to you. _Why is this so hard?_ he whined to himself, rolling over dramatically. He smooshed his face into a pillow, mumbling nonsense in an attempt to reanimate his scrambled brain. _Well Oikawa,_ he thought, _if you hadn’t been so stupid in the first place you wouldn’t be in this mess_. His brows squished together in frustration; it was so much easier to _not_ apologize, but he—along with Makki, Mattsun, and Iwa-chan— really wanted to keep you. They really _really_ wanted to. So, Oikawa had to find a way out of the hole he had dug for himself… which was far easier said than done. Proof of that lay in the fact that he had _planned_ to apologize to you the other day after school but had chickened out before he gave himself a chance.

He was sifting through his memories of you two, searching for something he could use for leverage, something to give him an in, anything which would make this impossible task seem less daunting. But instead of finding _useful_ pieces of information, his mind kept producing annoyingly insignificant moments. Like how you talked with your hands when you were excited, and how pretty your smile was after you laughed, and the way your hair bounced when you walked, and how he couldn’t help looking down at your lips when you talked and—

“HOLY SHIT!!!” he shrieked, leaping out of bed. The blanket he had been burrowed underneath tangled around his legs, sending him sprawling on the floor with an ungracious _thump_. Oikawa lay in a crumpled heap, breathing hard. “This cannot be happening…” he mumbled, “There’s no way…”

He pulled out his phone to call Iwaizumi.

“Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi answered coolly.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa stated.

“Shitty-kawa,” Hajime replied.

“IWA-CHAN!!!” Oikawa screeched.

“What do you want.”

“I need you to explain something to me.”

“If you took a nap and your hair is now defying gravity, I do _not_ know how to fix that mess.”

“Iwa-chan, this is of marginally greater importance than my hair.”

“WHAT?! Of greater importance than the grand king’s _hair_?! That which takes fuck-knows _how long_ to placate once it has entered its ‘bed head’ stage?”

“Iwa-chan! I’m serious! Please help,” Oikawa said, nearly mumbling.

Iwaizumi took in a deep breath. “What’s up?” he asked genially.

“I think I like [Name]-chan,” Oikawa whispered into the receiver, glancing around his room manically like he was about to be incarcerated.

“That’s great!” Iwaizumi bellowed. Oikawa stared at the phone in his hand for a moment. Did Iwaizumi not understand the significance of this? That Oikawa Tooru, lover of only volleyball, was interested in something— _someone_ \-- other than his sport?

“It’s great?” Oikawa asked, confused.

“Well, yeah, dumbass! A few days ago you were ready to banish her because you thought she would steal us away—which was stupid again, by the way—but now you _know_ you like her so we can all be friendly! I’m proud of you for liking someone outside of volleyball. This is a huge step for you,” Iwaizumi finished, chest glowing with pride for his best friend. Oikawa was growing!

Tooru took a moment to process what Iwaizumi said when he realized the misunderstanding. Iwa-chan could be ridiculously dense. “ _Iwa-chan_ ,” Oikawa whined, exasperated. “I don’t just _like_ [Name]-chan, I _really_ like her.”

“That’s even better then!” Iwaizumi laughed, joy spreading through his limbs like sunshine.

“I-w-a-c-h-a-n!” Oikawa enunciated in frustration, “I think I want [Name]-chan to be my girlfriend!”

Oikawa’s confession was met with silence. He couldn’t hear anything on Iwaizumi’s side. “Iwa-chan?” Oikawa whispered, anxious. He heard a deep intake of breath and an even longer exhale.

Iwaizumi broke his silence with the obvious, “You do realize you’ve made things _way_ harder for yourself than you needed to, right, Shittykawa?”

Oikawa stared at the wall in front of him as he muttered, “Yeah, I know. But how am I going to get her to like me, not even want-to-be-my-girlfriend-like-me, just hey-you-aren’t-actually-a-shitty-person-like-me after what I said to her?”

Iwaizumi pressed a fist to his forehead as he replied, “We’re going to have to come up with something good.”

“Something good…?” Oikawa trailed off, questioning.

“Something really fucking good,” Iwaizumi confirmed. He paused before continuing, “I’ll be over in 10 minutes.”

“Iwa—” Oikawa started, but was cut off as Iwaizumi ended the call. _The fuck are we going to do_ , Oikawa wondered, hopping up to tidy his room.

10 minutes later, Iwaizumi walked into Oikawa’s room, duffel bag in hand with Matsukawa following behind. Oikawa was sitting in the middle of the floor, alien patterned blanket draped around him and over his head with milk bread wrappers scattered at his feet. Matsukawa took one glance at his pitiful captain when he observed, “Man, he’s got it worse than we thought.”

Hajime looked at Oikawa then back to Mattsun as he nodded, “This is the real deal.” He tossed the duffel ungraciously onto Tooru’s bed before sitting in front of the estranged setter. “Oikawa—” he started, placing his hands on Oikawa’s knees, “now is the time to do what you do best.”

Oikawa looked at Iwaizumi quizzically. “What I do best?” he asked.

“Yes,” Matsukawa continued, grabbing a package from the duffel bag before sitting next to Iwaizumi. He placed the package in Tooru’s hands, motioning for Oikawa to open it. The setter’s glance moved suspiciously between his best friends before he started to unwrap it. The object was rectangular, a little larger than a piece of paper, but heavier, with an odd lump at its center. His precise fingers deftly removed the wrapping, miraculously, but not surprisingly, doing so without tearing the paper. He placed the wrapping delicately to the side as he stared at the object resting in his hands. To Oikawa, this represented a myriad of things. It was triumph, defeat, and strategy; it had driven him crazy, lost him sleep, and taken up too much of his time. Now it was going to serve him again. He raised his eyes to look at Iwaizumi and Matsukawa. Moments before they had seen apprehension in their setter’s eyes, but now it was replaced with a steely resolve.

Oikawa stared at the whiteboard in his hands before putting it on the ground between them, picking up the marker stuck to its center. “Now,” he began, mind racing at a mile a minute, “we start our game plan.”


	8. The Play, Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iwaizumi: makki, mattsun, and i have this play we’re putting on to fundraise for the volleyball team and we need a critic. you interested?
> 
> You rubbed your eyes to see if you had read that correctly. Iwaizumi, Matsukawa, and Hanamaki were going to be in a play?
> 
> [Name]: when did this happen??!! a play??!!?
> 
> Iwaizumi: it’s been a secret :3
> 
> [Name]: yes I wanna watch!!!! what time?
> 
> Iwaizumi: my house at 7
> 
> [Name]: i’ll be there =D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so so so so sorry for taking so long to update this! College has been crazy and time has been flying by so quickly I didn't realize it had been over two months since the last time I updated!!! I can't apologize to you guys enough, but to make up for the long wait this is the longest chapter I've written so far! I hope you enjoy! =D

The weekend passed by quickly for you, so now it was time to get back down to business. You were in a good mood, a great one actually, one which showed itself in the extra bounce in your step and the hint of a smile resting pleasantly on your face. Walking from lunch to Physics your headphones were blasting an energetic beat which had your entire being glowing. It was in this effervescent state that you walked into Physics.

Boy, did it catch Oikawa off-guard. Before you walked in, you would’ve thought he’d had 2 cups of the sugary syrup-concoction he calls coffee, he was fidgeting so violently. He could not sit still for the life of him. Nervous energy was coiled in his core like a taut wire, and in trying to release itself it sent his extremities into miniature fits. But when you walked into the room, looking like happiness incarnate, he turned to jelly. Oikawa had limited (no experience whatsoever) with crushes, so he was unprepared when the knots in his stomach exploded into butterflies as you walked into the room. He clutched his stomach—it had _never_ felt this way!

 _What the heck is this_? Oikawa asked his rioting tummy. It didn’t feel necessarily _bad_ , but he wasn’t sure it felt that good either. It was like getting hit with an Iwaizumi serve to the gut, but the ball was made of nervous excitement and something _warm_ Oikawa couldn’t identify. It was frustrating!

As these thoughts bounded through his mind, Oikawa was staring at you. He didn’t realize this, but you did.

And it was infuriating. _This asshole hasn’t apologized yet and he has the nerve_ _to_ stare _at me?!_

You dumped your bookbag angrily to the side as you took your place next to Oikawa. His heart raced with newfound feelings while yours thumped with slow rage. You refused to make eye contact with him and instead stared directly ahead.

His brain finally caught up to the situation at hand, and his mouth formed a dumb ‘O’ shape as a “Hallo [Name]-chan!” died in his throat. _Shit, shit, shit I haven’t apologized yet! And she doesn’t know about our plan!_ Oikawa sat fidgeting in his seat, agonizing over the fact that he _couldn’t_ say sorry to you—not yet, the timing wasn’t right, and he had a plan to carry out. It was going to work, it _had_ to work, but that fact didn’t make sitting next to you, crush finally recognized, while you were still so hurt and angry any easier. Iwaizumi, Hanamaki, and Matsukawa had made him promise not to try anything before Operation Oikawa Redemption (OOR) had begun. They knew, as did Oikawa, that the best thing he could do until then was keep quiet, lest he incite your wrath further—which they knew was all too possible. Oikawa wasn’t good at admitting he was wrong, which made the process of apologizing that much harder. This time, though, he was going to get it right.

Physics passed quickly for you. Sensei’s soothing voice calmed the anger Oikawa’s face provoked and made it easy for you to ignore him. Oikawa, on the other hand, was struggling to keep himself together. He barely heard Sensei’s lecture—the words seemed garbled and nonsensical; all Oikawa could hear was the thumping of his heart in his ears, all he could feel was how hot the room seemed to be. His thoughts roared loud behind his darting eyes, and his legs had bounced enough to make the energizer bunny tired. When the class period finally ended, Oikawa wiped a sweaty hand across his brow in relief: the torture was over.

You took your time putting your things back into your bag, unconsciously waiting for Oikawa to take the moment to apologize. When he didn’t, and you realized what you were doing, you snatched your bag to angrily make your way to your next class. Oikawa watched you leave in dismay. The happiness you had walked in with earlier was gone, replaced with tense frustration. He let his head rest for a moment on the desk. _I don’t want her to hurt anymore,_ he whimpered silently. Tooru collected his things, pulling out his phone to text Iwa-chan, Makki, and Mattsun.

 **Grand King:** i am dead & [name]-san hates me.

 **Takahero:** did she giv u the look? o.O

 **Isseyyyyy:** the one that makes you fear for your life and your children’s lives and all that you love?

 **GGM:** that one ^ is scary

 **Takahero:** wen the gr8 grump monster fears something ^^^ we all do

 **Isseyyyyy:** for suree

 **Grand King:** you guys dont understand how hard it was to sit next to her!!!1!

 **GGM:** don’t worry the plan will work

 **Grand King:** can we plz skip to that part

 **Takahero:** soon captin, soon

 **Isseyyyyy:** did anyone check to see if she’s free this afternoon?

 **GGM:** I’ll do that now

 **Takahero:** & so it begins……

 --------

You were sitting in the library when your phone buzzed with a text from Iwaizumi.

 **Iwaizumi** : hey [name]-san, are you free this afternoon?

 **[Name]:** i am! what’s up?

 **Iwaizumi:** makki, mattsun, and i have this play we’re putting on to fundraise for the volleyball team and we need a critic. you interested?

You rubbed your eyes to see if you had read that correctly. Iwaizumi, Matsukawa, and Hanamaki were going to be in a _play_?

 **[Name]:** when did this happen??!! a play??!!?

 **Iwaizumi:** it’s been a secret :3

 **[Name]:** yes I wanna watch!!!! is anyone else watching too?

 **Iwaizumi:** nope! just you. we needed someone not from volleyball.

 **[Name]:** i would be honored. what time?

 **Iwaizumi:** my house at 7

 **[Name]:** i’ll be there =D

  ----------

 Iwaizumi, Makki, and Mattsun had been planning this for what felt like months. It had, in reality, been completed in a sleepless weekend fueled by coffee, desperation, and determination in its purest form. They wanted you back. Oikawa wanted you back. Nothing was going to get in the way of that. For the trio, the school day passed by agonizingly slowly, but once preparations commenced for the ‘play’ time slipped through their fingers like precious sand. Everything was being set up at Iwaizumi’s house. They cleared his living room to make an impromptu stage, pushing the couch against a wall to serve as comfortable a seating arrangement a girl could ask for. In the center of their stage was a giant cardboard box, painted in Aoba Johsai’s colors. Makki was worrying over the box and mumbling his lines when Mattsun voiced the concern that had been plaguing the three of them since they had come up with OOR.

“Makki, Iwa, what if this doesn’t work?” he asked, absentmindedly running his fingers over the top of the massive box.

Iwaizumi sighed deeply and responded, “Then… I don’t know. She has to, _has to_ accept this apology. If [Name]-san doesn’t tonight… we’ll have to come up with something else. Something _better._ ”

Hanamaki paused his recitations to add, “Nothing is better than this…” He stopped, deep in thought for a second before exclaiming, “It will work!” Then, turning to face his comrades he continued, voice raising in passion with every word, “[Name]-san is important to us, she’s even important to _Oikawa_ for meme’s sake! We put our minds together, came up with this foolproof plan, and are _going to win her back!_ Not just for Oikawa, but for all of us too! We want [Name]-san back!”

Mattsun and Iwaizumi smiles grew with every word Makki said. Together, as one consciousness, the three boys vowed once again to win your forgiveness.

The time they couldn’t hold onto fell faster faster through their fingers as 7 o’clock raced toward them. Final preparations were made, costumes were donned, the stage was set. Now all they had to do was wait for your arrival.

 -----------

 You walked happily along the sidewalk leading to Iwaizumi’s house. You were running a little late—your mum had had a difficult day at work and simply _had_ to vent about how _goddam Avery won’t stop pestering me_ and _if Avery would just read the instructions I posted on the freaking printer so people wouldn’t_ need _my help they wouldn’t have any issues_ _but_ apparently _that’s too much to ask_! Like the good child you are, you listened, nodded, exclaimed when appropriate, critiqued Avery’s incompetence, and finally hugged your mum for having the strength to deal with such a pest at work. By the time her ranting subsided it was nearly 6:50, and Iwaizumi’s house was a 20 minute walk away, so you gave her one last pat before dashing out the door. Iwaizumi, Makki, and Mattsun were putting on a _play_! A play! And you didn’t want to miss a second of it, or keep them waiting for too long. Your strides came long and swift as you started to walk, carried along by the excitement in your heart. Knowing the three of them, the play was bound to be entertaining, especially since they said it was meant to help the volleyball team. They put 150% effort into everything they did—this would be the same.

You knocked on his door, probably a little too hard, but it didn’t matter because the door was opened with just as much force. “[Name]!” Iwaizumi yelled, pulling you inside. “Come, come, come,” he muttered as he pushed you toward his living room. He pointed to the couch in the center of the room, a set-up fit for a queen, you noted, taking your place as Iwaizumi ran to change into his costume. The lights in the room dimmed dramatically, and when they flashed on again Hanamaki was standing in front of you.

“LADY, LACK OF GENTLEMEN, welcome to this, the volley-ball club’s first ever home production! Tonight, you will watch the tragic, hilarious, hopefully heart-warming story of a spoiled boy prince as he struggles to make friends and learns valuable life lessons along the way… or at least we hope he does, with kids you never know. They can be pieces of shit. Now, if you could all—” he wagged his finger directly in your face as he said this, “—SHUT UP!” he finished with a wink, “We can get on with the show!”

The lights dimmed once again as you heard a glomphing of feet in the darkness ahead of you. From the blackness, kneeling in front of the box with shoes on his knees so he appeared to be half his regular height, emerged Matsukawa. You stifled a guffaw at the sight of your tower of a friend being so small, and especially at the paper crown which adorned his head. It was a few sizes too large, so it sat precariously tipped to one side. Offstage, Hanamaki began to narrate in a high-pitched, stuffy Old-English accent.

“A loooooong, long time ago, in a land inconveniently far away, lived a boy prince named Tori. Tori was prince of a vaaaast kingdom, but in this too large land the boy had not a single friend. Why, you ask, does our adorable boy-prince not have any friends?” Upon being called adorable, Mattsun kneel-ran around the box laughing with glee, relishing in the praise. His awkward shuffling-while-trying-to-be-cute sent peals of laughter trembling through your body, but you covered your mouth with your hand to hear Hanamaki as he continued, “Because he’s a right piece of shit!”

When he heard _these_ words, Mattsun pulled a tissue out of his pocket and started to cry alligator tears.

“Oh shut UP, would you?!” Makki screeched at the boy-prince. Mattsun flinched and huffed away, kneel-running to drape himself dramatically over the box as he silently sobbed, Disney-princess style. Makki pompously cleared his throat before stating, “But that aaaaaall changed when Hamé, the butcher’s son, stumbled—quite literally—into our young hero’s life. The prince was out in the palace woods one day when he heard a rustling in some bushes nearby.”

You watched as Mattsun pretended to hear something off-stage, but Makki nearly sent his friend into fits when he decided to mimic the sound of rustling bushes _himself._

_“SHHHHHHhhhhhHHWOOOOSHhhhhHHHhhhhCRAAACKLECRUNCHSWOOOOOOOOoooOOOOoooo….”_

You were rolling around on the couch, shoving your face into the back cushions to stifle your laughter. A few [many] moments later, after you and Mattsun had recovered, Iwaizumi emerged dressed in a potato sack, on his knees like Matsukawa. “At first,” Hanamaki observed, “our prince was wary of this stranger.”

“You’re _diiiiiirty_ ,” Mattsun whined in his best spoiled-brat voice.

“Well yeah, I was just searching for bugs,” Iwaizumi deadpanned.

Mattsun appeared shocked for a second, allowing his boy-prince brain to process this information. “Bugs?” he asked, allowing a smidgen of curiosity to shine through.

“Yup, wanna join?” the butcher-boy offered, holding out his hand to the tentative prince.

“Up until now,” Hanamaki interrupted, freezing Iwaizumi and Mattsun in a tableau, “the boy-prince had only ever seen kindness from the castle servants, but he knew they were only nice to him because he was going to one day rule the kingdom, one day rule _them_. This strange boy shocked him, but he took his hand and in doing so gained his first friend.”

Mattsun and Iwaizumi unfroze themselves to go through an impromptu time-lapse as they each slowly raised themselves off the floor to stand up straight. Mattsun replaced his crown with one that was smaller, but still too large for his head.  

“The boy-prince and the butcher boy became the best of friends. Together they went on many adventures. Tori made sure to sneak Hamé desserts from royal dinner parties, while Hamé made sure Tori never felt lonely again. Because that was our hero’s greatest fear. Now that he knew what friendship was, our boy-prince was willing to do anything to protect it. He loved Hamé like a brother, as Hamé did to him. This bond was put to the test one fateful afternoon when they were out exploring in the woods. They had trod along these paths hundreds of times over the years, but one of them hadn’t stepped in one-little-spot slightly to the left of their favorite cave. Hamé stepped in this exact spot and was sent tumbling down, down, down, twenty feet into a hole that collapsed on itself as soon as he put his weight on it!”

To showcase this event, Iwaizumi tripped in slow motion before collapsing on the ground. “Help, help!” he cried.

“Hamé!!!” Mattsun shrieked. “I have to go find help!” Mattsun proceeded to run—again in slow motion—away from the fallen Iwaizumi, turning his head this way and that in search of assistance.

“Our prince had almost given up hope when out of nowhere a ball of insane energy ran into him!” Makki yelled. Mattsun looked desperately around, seemingly giving up hope, when from offstage Hanamaki sprinted into him!

“Oh my gosh!” you whispered under your breath.

“Who are you?!” Mattsun the boy-prince screeched.

“I’m Matsumaki!” Makki proudly proclaimed.

“What kind of a name is that?” Mattsun asked haughtily.

“My kind of a name, that’s what it is!” Makki retorted.

Mattsun took in a deep breath, calming his boy-prince nerves as he remembered the task at hand. He put aside the qualms he had about this stranger’s name to ask for help.

“Matsumaki, great ball of energy, will you please help me save my friend? He fell down a hole nearby! Please please please please pleeeeeease!” Mattsun begged, giving a soap opera-worthy performace.

Not knowing who could refuse such an annoying plea as this, Matsumaki agreed. Makki and Mattsun grabbed a rope from offstage and dragged it to the face-down Iwaizumi. He latched onto it and let them pull him, dragging across the floor, in a lap around the box. You chuckled amiably at this nonsense, loving the action and the dialogue and the ridiculous acting of your friends.

“Thank you, stranger,” Iwaizumi bowed graciously.

“But of course, I couldn’t resist the shrill pleas of your companion,” Makki replied.

“I was _not_ shrill!” Matsun shrieked, proving Matsumaki’s point.

“Is he like this all the time?”

“At the moment I believe his streak for acting ‘like this’ is a solid… five years,” Iwaizumi nodded, “Ever since I’ve known him!”

“And that,” Mattsun proclaimed, speaking directly to you now, “was the beginning of our prissy boy-prince’s second true friendship… you could count it as the third too considering Matsumaki had enough energy for two people!”  

“Now,” Makki continued, returning to his narrator’s voice, “we will take a brief intermission to adjust some important features on set, so please take this break to use the restroom, grab refreshments, and then get back to the show!”

The three of them lined up in front of the box, bowed, and quickly stole away to the kitchen to prepare chocolate milk as a special-guest treat for you, and as a much-needed energy replacer for them. You got up from the couch to join them, unaware that the biggest part of the play, the most important piece of it all, had been inches from you the entire time. After the intermission, a surprise which would either infuriate you or earn your forgiveness would make its appearance, but for now, it waited patiently within the center-stage box.


	9. The Play, Intermission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “This play is fantastic!” you squealed, pouring praise over Iwaizumi, Makki, and Mattsun. The three boys blushed as one—Hanamaki rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, Iwaizumi ducked his head bashfully, and Mattsun struggled to prevent his smile from growing too large. You smiled at the display, but couldn’t help feeling a pang in your gut at seeing them without their stupid captain.

Oikawa was sitting alone in the dark, hunched over like a hermit crab in a shell that’s too small for its body. “How much longer am I going to have to sit like this…” he grumbled to himself, voice absorbed by the cardboard which surrounded him. “If this doesn’t work I’m going to _kill_ Iwa-chan and Makki and Mattsun for doing this to their poor captain. It will work though. It _has_ to.”

With this sentiment in his mind Oikawa ceased his complaining, silently awaiting his curtain call.

\--------

“This play is fantastic!” you squealed, pouring praise over Iwaizumi, Makki, and Mattsun. The three boys blushed as one—Hanamaki rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, Iwaizumi ducked his head bashfully, and Mattsun struggled to prevent his smile from growing too large. You smiled at the display, but couldn’t help feeling a pang in your gut at seeing them without their stupid captain. Tooru’s presence demanded attention. When it was gone, the empty space it left behind yawned like it was ready to swallow someone whole. You tried to ignore it, but the void itched incessantly. Why wasn’t Oikawa in the play? That question had been bothering you for a while, especially since Iwaizumi said the play was a fundraiser for the volleyball team. Wouldn’t the team’s captain be at the forefront of something like this? Particularly a captain as attention-whore-ish as Oikawa Tooru? He primped and preened in front of his fans like a peacock, so it would be natural for him to take the lead in a play. Actually, it was downright _weird_ that he wasn’t a part of this.

“Hey, Iwa-chan,” you started, “why isn’t Oikawa in the play?”

Iwaizumi froze. _Shit, shit, shit_ , he thought. _Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit_ —

“He’s taking his nephew Takeru to volleyball practice,” Mattsun interjected smoothly.

“Oh, okay.” The answer was satisfactory, but it still didn’t quite add up in your mind. “I just thought it was odd ‘cause a play seems like something he’d be into.”

“Ha, you’d bet our captain would love this,” Hanamaki chuckled.

Iwaizumi recovered to add with a scowl, “Yeah, Shittykawa would go crazy having people watch him acting. He’d be like, ‘Oh, Iwa-chan,’ and flip his hair like this—” Iwaizumi did a dramatic twirl while overzealously flicking his hand through his fake-Tooru-hair, “and then he’d say, ‘I know you and your savage ways don’t understand the culture of theatre, but even brutes like you can see how the audience adores me~.” Iwaizumi concluded this spectacle with a sashay and a pose, jutting his hips to the side with an exaggerated _oompf_.

Meanwhile, Mattsun, Makki, and yourself were staring dumbfounded. “Who knew the Great Grump could move his hips like that?!” Makki shrieked. Iwaizumi stunned you even further when he started to sing:

“~I-I-I’m on tonight and my hips don’t lie and I’m starting to feel it’s right~” all the while swishing his hips in freaking _sensual_ circles and sending winks to each member of his paralyzed audience.

“IWAIZUMI!!!” you all screamed, running around the kitchen like chickens without heads in an attempt to understand what the heck you had just witnessed.

“My eyes—they BURN!” Makki cried, shoving his head into the sink and rinsing them with water. He scrubbed furiously, but the image of Iwa’s rhythmical moves refused to be stopped. Across the kitchen Mattsun was sitting at a bar stool next to the counter with his head in his hands mumbling, “ _I never really knew you that you could dance like this, I never really knew that you could dance like this, I never really knew..._ ”

You were kicking yourself for not catching the whole thing on your phone. _Iwaizumi can dance_ , you thought incredulously. _He can dance freaking_ well _too!_

Iwaizumi stood like a king in the center of the room as he surveyed the carnage he had created. A smug smile sat wickedly on his face. He was usually content with his reputation for being strong, reliable, a little dense, and a bit rough, but he loved moments like these which challenged how people viewed him. As Oikawa’s right-hand man, he was used to standing behind the spotlight while the flashy setter drew attention. Iwa preferred for things to be that way because he found Oikawa’s fans annoying and didn’t see the need for all that _extra_ stuff Oikawa seemed to love so much; if Iwaizumi had the respect and trust of his teammates he was satisfied. _This_ moment, however, when he could shock his best friends and show them a different Iwaizumi, was his perfect spotlight.

You glanced over at Iwa-chan and could’ve sworn he was glowing. “Maybe being in a play is _just_ your kind of thing, Iwaizumi-kun. I seem to have underestimated your theatrical flair.”

“All hail Shakir-aizumi Hajime, evolved form of the Great Grump Monster!” Makki praised while moving to bow in front of Iwaizumi. You and Mattsun followed suit, knees on the floor in front of Iwa-chan to bow to his incredible dance skills. At this display Iwaizumi blushed beet red and lost all semblance of his boastful air.

“All hail Shakir-aizumi!” you, Makki, and Mattsun screeched together.

“S-s-stop you dumbasses!” Iwaizumi yelled, backing away from his adoring fans. This only spurred the three of you to knee-shuffle toward him, shrieking praises and bowing all the while. “ _Cretins!_ ” he bellowed, grabbing a spatula to try to ward off the three of you.

You couldn’t handle the ridiculousness of the situation any longer, so you rolled away in a fit of laughter. Makki and Mattsun followed moments later, which didn’t help _at all_ because Makki’s dying-animal-esque laughter blasted out of his lungs like a broken horn. This not only strengthened you and Mattsun’s laughing fits, but also sent Iwaizumi crashing to the floor clutching his sides.

A few (many) moments later, after catching your breaths, you sat in a haphazard circle on the floor.

“Are you ready for the rest of the play?” Iwaizumi asked, smile still teasing across his features.

“You bet I am,” you affirmed, moving to sit on the couch, directly in front of the center-stage box.


	10. The Play, Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At this point, you had clearly caught on to what was going on. They had reenacted your fight with Tooru in the play, and it had brought to the forefront of your mind the boiling mess of confusion, hurt, and anger you had been feeling. They had put in so much effort to try to fix Oikawa’s problem; it had obviously taken them hours and hours to put this together and you couldn’t understand one thing—where the fuck was he?!

You rearranged yourself comfortably on the couch as Hanamaki returned to center stage with his stuffy English accent to proclaim, “Aaaand now for part two of our production. When you last saw our boy-prince he had acquired his second true friend, the effervescent Matsumaki. For many years the trio went on all manner of adventures together. They soon became the most famous adventurers in all the land, and Tori went from being known as the spoiled boy-prince to being admired as Seijou’s great leader, especially for his unbreakable loyalty. He and his friends would do anything for one another, but sometimes, when he was by himself, Tori would be drowned by memories from his lonely childhood.”

On cue, Mattsun strolled onto the stage wearing a crown which fit his head and a cloak that cascaded from his shoulders in rich crimson. He somberly lowered himself next to the box to stare blankly offstage. “What if they get sick of me?” he asked himself, thinking of Hamé and Matsumaki. “What if they remember I’m not worth the effort… that they deserve so much more than me?” With these words Tori gently buried his head in his arms as sobs silently wracked through his body.

Hanamaki stood in solemn silence before he continued, “This feeling stayed with Tori always, despite the constant reassurances of his friends. He believed they deserved better than him, so he lived in quiet fear that someone better would come along.”

Mattsun raised himself off the ground, straightened his crown and cloak, and let a strained smile spread across his features. His smile became softer when he heard Hamé calling to him from offstage, “Tori, c’mon Tori—I’m not gonna leave you behind!”

Mattsun smiled wide and bright at this call to stride confidently offstage. Hanamaki once more moved to center stage, but his somber mood remained. “Unfortunately, trouble was brewing for our brave trio. It was not a monster, or a witch, or a dangerous quest. Rather, it was a girl.”

With these words, Hajime strutted onto the scene. He was wearing a luxurious wig with hair that went down to his sashaying hips and he had replaced his potato sack for one of his mother’s dresses—how he fit his bulging muscles into the thing you would never know.

“This—” Hanamaki gestured toward Hajime, “—lovely lady was one of the most wonderful people in all the land. She was kind, smart, witty, and downright hilarious.” He broke character for a moment to say, “And she was quite a lot like you, [Name]-san,” finishing with a wink. You chuckle-blushed at this commentary, covering your face with your hands. Peeking through your fingers, you saw Hajime swirling gracefully around the stage. Hanamaki appreciated the spectacle for a moment before continuing his narration.

“If you can’t already tell—and I don’t know how you couldn’t with Hajime’s spectacular moves—this lovely girl won the hearts of all those around her. She became fast friends with Mastumaki and Hamé, and she eventually met Tori as well.”

Mattsun returned to the stage, clasped hands with Hajime, and twirled around happily.

“The ease of this friendship stunned Tori at first, but it also made him ridiculously happy. He was amazed that such an incredible person would not only be able to _tolerate_ him but would enjoy spending time with him too. Yet, all the while his niggling self-doubt plagued him. The girl made him feel like a better version of himself, something only his best friends had ever accomplished. Up until this point in their friendship, however, Tori had never seen the girl with Hamé or Matsumaki. When he finally did, all of Tori’s insecurities surged to the surface.”

Hanamaki then ran offstage so Mattsun could move to the forefront. “I just saw her with Matsumaki and Hamé…Matsumaki and Hamé! I can’t let her take them away from me, but she’s so much kinder and funnier and _better_. They deserve better… but I don’t want to lose them—I don’t want to lose any of them! But if they see how great she is they won’t love me anymore and I can’t be alone again, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t!” he sobbed. After taking a few moments to calm down, Tori resolved, “Well… if I’m going to lose someone either way, I’d rather lose just _one_ friend than all of them. She has to go.”

As soon as Mattsun said these words, Hajime returned to the stage, dressed as the girl. They didn’t use words for this portion of the play, rather, Hanamaki turned on dramatic music from offstage while his friends acted out the fight. Mattsun looked cold as he shook his head slowly from side to side and Hajime went through stages of shock, then hurt, then anger. Iwaizumi stormed away in a fury, returning moments later dressed as Hamé with Makki as Matsumaki at his side.

“What did you do to her, you dumbass?!” Hajime raged while Makki bounced side to side in a mock-fighting position. Mattsun responded in kind.

“She was going to take you away from me, and who could blame you for choosing her?! You would’ve left eventually—why would you stay with me when she’s so much better?!” At this outburst he fell dramatically to the floor. Hamé and Matsumaki crouched close to their fallen friend, rubbing his back in slow, methodical circles.

“Tori, you dumbass,” Hajime murmured, “we’d never leave you. What kind of best friends would that make us? She isn’t any _better_ than you… you really can’t go around comparing people like that. We love you and you’re going to have to try harder than this to get us to go away.”

Makki continued this train of thought as he said, “And you really liked her too, didn’t you? I thought you were going to be great friends.”

Tori stared dejectedly at his friends' faces as he absorbed this information. Sorrow anew crowded his features. “I just really messed up with her, didn’t I?” he said.

“You did,” Hajime confirmed, “But did you mean to?”

“No… no, I didn’t! She is great with a capital ‘G.’ GAH! What do I do?!” Mattsun screeched.

“What do you do?!” Makki and Iwaizumi yelled together.

“What should I do?!” Mattsun cried, turning to you.

At this point, you had clearly caught on to what was going on. They had reenacted your fight with Tooru in the play, and it had brought to the forefront of your mind the boiling mess of confusion, hurt, and anger you had been feeling. They had put in so much effort to try to fix Oikawa’s problem; it had obviously taken them hours and hours to put this together and you couldn’t understand one thing—where the fuck was he?!

“What should he do?!” they yelled again.

“HE SHOULD JUST FREAKING APOLOGIZE!” you screamed, leaping up off the couch.

As if summoned by the demon of milk bread itself, Oikawa burst forth from the confines of his cardboard box.

“[NAME]-CHAAAAN! PLEASE FORGIVE ME—” Tooru shrieked as he fell to his knees in front of you, “I was an asshole and so so so wrong to say those terrible mean things to you, I really want us to be friends and I knew you wouldn’t want to talk to me because who would after I was so terrible? So we wrote this play so you could see why I acted the way I did and I know there is no excuse and no way to take back the mean, mean things I said but even if you don’t want to forgive me—” he paused to take in a gulp of air, “—then please don’t be mad at Iwa-chan and Makki and Mattsun… they—we—all really care about you and I would hate myself more than I do right now for making you so mad if I ruined the friendship you have with them too. I really, truly, am sorry.”

You stared down at him, at the pathetic way he was knelt on the floor and at how his hands were clasped so tightly together, you could see his knuckles turning white. Tears were forming at the corners of his eyes like clouds about to burst, and when you glanced upward at the other three boys their eyes were the same. Looking back at Tooru, a kaleidoscope of emotions distorted his features. Were you still mad? Yes. Were you hurt? Absolutely. Could you forgive?

 _Can I forgive_? you asked yourself. You took a moment to replay the moment Tooru snapped, reliving the shock and frustration you had felt then. _Can I forgive?_ you asked again, thinking of how hurt Hanamaki, Mattsun, and Iwaizumi were because of their friend’s selfish actions.

A sniffle from Oikawa broke your reverie. He was slowly sinking, getting closer and closer to the ground, becoming smaller, shriveling. You had never seen the captain look so small, and it broke something in you. You remembered what they had tried to show you within the play, how he was flawed and insecure and then it hit you that you couldn’t see the mask. The one Oikawa always had on, at school, at volleyball matches, the one you had only seen fleetingly removed when he was with one of his best friends and thought they were alone.

Makki’s voice echoed through your head, _‘The girl made him feel like a better version of himself, something only his best friends had ever accomplished…’_

So here he was, The Oikawa Tooru, stripped of his perfect façade and laid bare in front of you. His face looked ugly when it was on the brink of tears. His knees looked like they hurt, pressed against the hard floors. He looked so small, so pathetic, so _un-Tooru_ - _like_ that you couldn’t bear the sight any longer. You reached out a hand to him and mumbled, “Stand up, dumbass.”

He blinked and the clouds he had been containing burst.

“C’mon, stand up,” you said, gently unfolding his hands to lift him from the ground. You didn’t let go when he finally stood. You held his hands like they had broken wings, letting their delicate weight hang loosely between you two. Staring into Tooru’s storming eyes you smiled gently and said, “I forgive you,” allowing the rain in your eyes to fall too.  


End file.
